


Marked

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Dark Magic, Gen, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agrius Burke pondered the new task that the Dark Lord had set for him.  Something did not add up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

The Dark Lord was furious.

Agrius Burke looked around at his cowering fellow Death Eaters and frowned disapprovingly. Useless fools, the lot of them. But he supposed that if the Dark Lord had only gathered wizards of intelligence around him, his following would be meagre, indeed. Besides, men with more weight than wit had their uses: he and other capable Death Eaters did not have to constantly risk their necks to do the Dark Lord’s bidding.

Agrius smirked. He had lately joined the exclusive, inner circle of followers of the Dark Lord, having rendered his master a great service. His grin widened as he thought about the others in that circle. If he played his cards right, he would soon supplant Bellatrix as his master’s most trusted servant. Despite all the deranged witch’s claims, she was _not_ in the Dark Lord’s good graces. 

A frightened minion came up to him and whispered that he was summoned. Assuming a carefully-blank expression, Agrius straightened his robes and strode toward the chamber where the Dark Lord was waiting.

*** 

Agrius exited Borgin and Burke’s and grimaced. He never could stand the grating voice of old Borgin. However, his uncle’s business partner had useful connections, and both the familial shares in the business and the threat of the Dark Lord’s displeasure had easily convinced the old man to not only track down the prize now safely tucked away in Agrius’ robes but bear all expenses and forfeit the profit he could have made from the valuable item.

Agrius reached his front door in Muggle London and paused to look around the quiet neighbourhood. His family had thought him mad to live among Muggles and start a black market business for trafficking Muggle goods in the wizarding world that defied but did not breach the Statute of Secrecy. But Agrius had always been less short-sighted than his family. And his cleverness had paid off. He was now in a unique position to carry out a task for the Dark Lord that none of the other Death Eaters could hope to undertake.

Seating himself comfortably in the soft armchair in his study, Agrius pulled out the small box from within his robes. He examined the item carefully, not having done more than glance at it to ensure that it was the correct item. 

It was a stickpin. In the shape of a wolf’s head. Agrius had been thorough in his research and knew that the pin had indeed belonged to Gellert Grindelwald, as the pawn shop in Hungary had claimed. It had taken Borgin three days of bargaining before he was able to settle on a price for the pin. The old man had been apoplectic with rage when Agrius had coolly informed him that he would not be reimbursed, but he knew better than to come to the Dark Lord’s unwanted notice.

Agrius frowned as he tried to figure out why this stickpin was so vital to his master. The Dark Lord had been vague about the purpose of acquiring the object, and it could not be as simple as the desire to own a possession of Grindelwald. The wizard might have been formidable and wreaked havoc in his time, but surely the Dark Lord had now surpassed him. Furthermore, Grindelwald had been defeated by Dumbledore in the end. And Dumbledore was dead. 

The only one who could still pose a threat to the Dark Lord was Harry Potter. But the young wizard was now on the run, having escaped Malfoy Manor right under Bellatrix’s nose. Agrius smirked but turned his thoughts elsewhere. Potter’s escape was the Dark Lord’s headache. 

Focussing his attention on the stickpin once more, Agrius thought about his conversations with the Dark Lord regarding the object. The Dark Lord had given him a sealed envelope with strict instructions that it was only to be opened upon his master’s unlikely demise at the hands of Harry Potter. Indeed, even if Agrius had been tempted to disobey, there was a curse on the envelope. And so, Agrius had prudently put the envelope in his Muggle safe. He chuckled humourlessly as he thought of the hapless Muggle burglars who would be in for a nasty surprise should they ever manage to break into his house. 

Thinking once more of the Dark Lord, Agrius smirked and was glad to be in the safety of his own home. He was a sufficiently accomplished Occlumens that he need not worry his master would discover his less than reverent thoughts as he attempted to puzzle out the purpose of the pin. Agrius still held the Dark Lord in deep reverence, but upon discovering that the Dark Lord was sufficiently fearful of possible death and was making provisions, his fear of his master had lessened. The Dark Lord wasn’t so high and almighty, then. Of course, his master had reason to be less cavalier. After all, he had been defeated by an infant Harry Potter and had waited thirteen years to rise again. 

Agrius thought about his next-door neighbours’ unborn child. The Dark Lord had revealed that he would cast a spell on the stickpin that would transfer some of his powers to it. In the event of his master’s demise, Agrius was to follow the instructions in the sealed envelope to transplant the stored powers into the baby. It would be poetic justice. Harry Potter had been raised by Muggles, away from prying eyes in the wizarding world, after all. And it didn’t take a genius to know that there would be a witch-hunt to round up the Dark Lord’s followers upon his demise by the Ministry of Magic; it would take some time for the Death Eaters to rebuild their strength. Moreover, once a supposed peace was restored, the Ministry would be too busy running everyday affairs to pay attention to Agrius, who was an expert at slipping past unnoticed, despite their vigilance. And who would think to look for a rising dark lord in Muggle London, in any case? Agrius and his hand-picked assistant Death Eaters would have seventeen years to both watch over the maturing Dark Lord and rebuild his empire before they needed to hand it over. And Agrius was confident that he would have built a stronger following than the one currently in existence.

Agrius got out of the armchair and began browsing his books on the Dark Arts. Surely, the spell to transfer magical powers onto an inanimate object would have been described _somewhere_.

*** 

Agrius sat back, stunned. A Horcrux. _That_ was what the stickpin would be turned into. And now he understood the purpose of the baby and why his master had wanted to make sure that he would be able to influence the child’s upbringing.

Agrius took a shuddering breath. Despite the enormity of such a task, he was not daunted. Ultimately, this was but a last resort. Agrius shared the Dark Lord’s belief that it was unlikely that Harry Potter could defeat him. From all accounts, the boy was not exceptional in his magical talents. With his protector, Dumbledore, dead and the Order of the Phoenix unable to stem the tide of Death Eater activities, Potter was in a precarious position. 

Rubbing his temples, Agrius closed the reference book. He had been researching non-stop for several days. He needed sleep to organize and store away the information he’d gleaned so that he could successfully hide his newfound knowledge from the Dark Lord’s prying eyes. He suspected that the Dark Lord had withheld the vital keyword of this secret mission on purpose, and it would not do to reveal that he had discovered the truth.

*** 

Agrius kept very still underneath the Disillusionment Charm as he watched his neighbours run frantically into the nursery to soothe their son’s anguish. While they were distracted with the task of stopping the screams, Agrius crept out of the room and returned to his house. He put the now-returned-to-normal stickpin into his safe and went to bed. There was nothing more he could do for the next several months but to lay low and make plans. And he needed his sleep to ensure he had all his faculties to slowly set things into motion. He was still reeling from the shock of the Dark Lord’s demise. It had seemed so improbable.

Meanwhile, his neighbours spent a restless and fruitless night attempting to calm their son down. The doctor told them that their baby was likely suffering from overstimulation of the senses from all the sights and sounds around him that he was not accustomed to. It was best to keep the home environment as calm as possible; the constant crying would wear off as the baby adjusted.

It was several weeks before their son would sleep through the night, and Mr. and Mrs. Moriarty were so shaken by the experience that they didn’t notice the small, snake-shaped scar on his right ankle until some time later. Even then, they assumed it was either a birthmark that had escaped notice or merely an unfortunate remnant of some accidental contact with furniture that their active little Jimmy had incurred.


End file.
